Halloween '07
by Hallie -Dove
Summary: Sequal to Halloween '06. Christy tries to live a normal life despite last Halloween. However, it seems that her Great Uncle isn't through with her just yet. OCPOV.
1. Prelude

Christy James, a 16-year-old girl, woke up in a pool of sweat. The moonlight silhouetted her figure, her tan skin appearing rather pale and her auburn hair slicked back. She'd had another nightmare.

The 5 ft. 8" teenager gazed out the window with her dark brown eyes. She was living with her aunt now, and her cousins. Almost over a year ago, her family had been killed by her uncle (well, great uncle) Myers. Her father, John Tate, was the one who'd actually saved her. All of this had taken place on the Halloween of 2006.

Today, sadly, was October 31st being as it was 2:00 a.m. in the morning. Christy suddenly heard a stir. She got up, grabbed her flashlight and crept slowly out of her room. Her aunt and uncle (relatives of her mother) were still asleep. So she quickly tiptoed downstairs into the living room. Someone had left the TV on.

She turns it off and looks up the mirror above it at her reflection. But she finds a young boy with blonde hair starring back at her. She places her hand over her mouth to fight back a scream. Then He appears, clad in his white mask and blue jump suit. She starts to back up when she runs into something. Turning around, she discovers it's her cousin Todd.

Christy hugged him tightly and he looked a bit puzzled at first, but then started to calm her. Then she returned to her bed and slept soundly until morning.

Author's Note: This is a small prelude into the story. If you're confused a bit, try reading Halloween '06. That should clear things up some. And the next to last paragraph wasn't written exactly in past tense. I wanted to add a little dramatic effect. Anyway, review and tell me if this excites you at all. More is on the way and it will be in OC POV like '06. Thank you for the reviews as well. Without them, I might not have continued the story!


	2. Chapter 1

That was how my day began. As you might already know, I'm Christy James. I attend Rushmore High as a sophomore. My cousin Todd is a senior, and my younger cousin Amy is still in middle school as an 8th Grader.

Anyway, during breakfast that morning Todd mentioned that I had woken up earlier and he found me frightened. My aunt was about to freak.

"You're ok, aren't you? No cuts, wounds-" She was so worried her curly, bright red hair was sticking out on end, her light blue eyes glancing carefully over me. The short lady at 5 ft. 3" jumped out of her seat. "I'm going to cancel my meeting and call the po-"

"Aunt Gena," I said soothingly, though my voice was a bit tight whether I liked it or not. "Relax. He wasn't actually there. I was probably just imaging it."

"Don't worry Mom, you go to your meeting tonight and don't call Dad because you're all worried," added Todd, looking her in the eyes. His brown eyes were shining and his tawny hair still ungroomed. "He has enough work to worry about the way it is."

Once again I felt bad. I didn't want to ruin others lives, especially loved ones, with my problems. Even if that problem was a psycho Great Uncle on my father's side wanting to kill me.

"So Amy," I said, trying to change the subject. "Are you going trick-or-treating with Emma's family tonight?"

"Yeah, you wanna come?" she asked after finishing her French toast.

"Nah," I said, finishing up my toast and gulping down my milk. Then I got up, thanked Aunt Gena for her delicious breakfast, and headed upstairs to my room that was once a guest room.

After tidying up my bed, I went over to my desk and started packing my books back into my bag. I'd been up late finishing my homework and studying about my uncle. Just then, I remembered my presentation notes still needed to be printed out.

"Crap," I said, opening the file on the computer and hitting the print option.

Looking up from my computer and out the window next to it, I gasped. This time, I saw him out in the yard partially behind a tree. Yet after blinking, he was gone again. Aunt Gena was already gone and she was dropping Amy off. So quickly I jammed my notes into my bag and grabbed my binder before dashing down the stairs and out the door.

"Todd, we need to go now!" I yelled at him as he tossed his bag in the back seat. I threw mine behind me as I sat down.

"Ok, ok," he said, gunning out of the driveway and onto the road. Once well on our way, he asked, "Would you like to tell me what that was about?"

"Just keep driving," I said not taking my eyes off the rearview mirror. Even if he followed us, he'd probably wait till after school to attack.

At school, I hopped out and sprinted for the entrance not wanting to hang around outside. Inside Libby and Mischa greeted me. Libby was with me last year when I had my first taste of Uncle Michael. Her parents had offered to let me live with them, but I didn't want to impose on non-relatives. Especially after the night my close family perished before my eyes.

Libby had auburn red hair just past her shoulders and honey brown eyes. Mischa, on the other hand, had light blonde hair right at her shoulders and navy blue eyes. Both were about the same height, shorter than me.

"Hey Christy, how are you?" asked Libby, trying to sound perky though I could hint her concerned tone. "Doing alright this morning?"

"Yeah, yeah," I said, making sure not to look her in the eyes. She must have noticed because as soon as everyone left for homeroom she pulled me aside. "Are you sure?"

She forced me to stare into her eyes. I almost broke down and told her I'd seen him already this morning, but I ended up faking a smile and muttering, "I'm fine."

Libby smiled back. I guess she believed me. "Ok, I'll see you later then." And with that she took off.

Trying to relax, I walked slowly to my locker before heading to homeroom.


	3. Chapter 2

I entered first period English with a sense of unease. I had figured he would follow me, or at least an illusion of him would, on Halloween day. However, I wasn't positive which it was. As I took my seat, I grabbed my latest book from the library and read as the teacher took role.

Ms. Jean was a stern woman. Every essence of her spoke discipline. The way she wore her hair in a tight bun and her white blouse tucked perfectly into her navy blue skirt. The way she peered down her plain black spectacles at you when you didn't get the answer she'd asked you correct. The way her voice sounded like an old, miserable cat's meow but a bit more solid. Yes, that was my ancient English teacher, Ms. Jean.

Today she decided to teach us how different one person views a sentence or story from another person. I had put my book down for fear of missing something important. She tended to have that sort of effect on you.

"Christy, Christy," muttered a friend close by. I didn't focus on which one because my head was reeling. "Pay attention. Ms. Jean will call on you if you don't. Christy-"

Yet, my world went oddly silent. I could still see everyone, but couldn't hear them. Then there was a flash and I could hear everyone again, but couldn't see them. In front of me stood a man, masked and wearing a blue jumpsuit. His reddish-brown hair was askew, and he starred down at me with oddly red eyes. His hand was clutched over a dagger-

"Miss James, would you please interpret line 35-38 for us?" she asked in a slightly sarcastic tone.

"Sure," I mumbled, looking down at the text. "The author is at a loss of whether or not she should follow the masked man and-"

"Yes, if we were reading the last poem that would be a correct assumption. However, I doubt a poem about a cat loving person would have a masked man to follow," she said, giving me the famous stare down. I gulped and slouched in my seat, pretending I didn't exist for the rest of the period.

When the bell rang, I darted out into the hallway frantically searching for Libby. As I passed a window that reflected well, I could see the masked man in it. Everywhere I went he was following me.

Just then I bumped into someone and sent my books toppling.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going and I-"

I stopped short. I had just bumped into the famous runner of my school, Andrew Manson. He helped my stammering self up and handed me my books.

"Thanks," I managed to get out.

"No problem," he replied modestly. He said something else but I was too busy starring at his features to notice. He had sandy blonde hair and deep honey colored eyes. A head taller than me, he was slightly gangly. Eventually, I realized he was asking me a question.

"What?"

"I was wondering it you'd like to hang out with me tonight?"

"Um…"

"Sure she would love to," said Libby, coming up behind me and patting my back. "What time?"

"How 'bout seven?"

"Great. She'll see you then at-"

"I can pick her up."

As he walked away, Libby grinned.

"Do you love me or what?"

"I don't know. I could have made arrangements myself," I grumbled.

"So how are you doing today? Seeing 'him' any?"

"Actually, yeah. I'm not sure if it's me hallucinating or-"

"Well, how about you see the nurse? You could be sick."

She had a valid point so I took her advice. I'm not exactly fond of the school nurse, but for the sake of myself I went. All year long she's been trying to place me in a psychiatric ward. I didn't feel she needed another opportunity for her to make the notion, in case the principal agreed.

No one was there when I walked in. I chose to sit on the bed right next to the window. The light streamed into the room that reminded me of a hospital. Everything was white except for the furniture. I shuddered as the air conditioner kicked in again. It was definitely cold like a hospital too.

That's when a boy walked in. He appeared close to my age, but I'd never seen him before. His hair was shaggy, a dark brown color. He looked tan enough, but his overall appearance screamed malnourishment. Under his dark eyes he bore dark circles. He was gangly to boot. His clothes were of the gothic nature.

"Who are you?" I asked politely.

"No…stay away! STAY AWAY!" screamed the boy, his eyes widening upon seeing me. He started to growl.

"What the-" I began, until I saw a glimmer of something in a nearby mirror. The words caught in my throat.

_He was there._

The nurse walked in as I turned around. Of course, it was a figment of my imagination. Much to my dismay, the boy wasn't. He continued to howl and scream.

"There, there Mr. Suttles," she soothed him as he swallowed some pretty rank medicine.

Then she bristled around the office, looking for work and pretending I didn't exist.

The five foot even, stringy haired, stubby nosed nurse was the worst. She'd tried countless times to throw me, an almost normal 16-year-old, into an asylum. Yet she was fine to have a boy who burst into fits every so often.

"What do you need, Miss Tate?" she asked as sweetly as possible for herself. She brushed back a loose strand of her brown hair.

"Nothing, nothing," I lied, walking out of the room as quickly as I'd entered it. Bit obvious she wasn't going to be any help.

The bell rang as soon as I entered the hall. It was over filled with students, traveling to their respective third period classrooms. I stood rooted to the spot at what my eyes upon 50 feet away.

There he stood, masked in his pale face and wearing that putrid blue jumpsuit. Without thinking, I weaved my way through the crowd faster than I could ever remember myself doing so. I was almost to my class, History, when I turned and saw he was following and about to reach me. I stepped through the doorway and looked back again. He wasn't there anymore.

What was going on with me?


End file.
